Conversations With The Enigma
by Writingathing
Summary: Various characters meet with a mysterious figure to discuss the direction the series is taking. Now finished.
1. General Iroh

General Iroh tried to see across the table to the face under the hood, but it was shrouded in darkness and shadow, like the rest of the room.

"I don't understand," he said. "There are only two episodes left."

"Two episodes...is a long time..." the voice said. Iroh couldn't tell if the voice came from the hooded figure or somewhere else.

"Yes, I realize that a lot of character development can happen in two episodes," Iroh said. "There are so many great examples from the days of my grandfather. The Avatar and his friends, and even their enemies, were all developed beautifully and efficiently."

"Yes," the voice hissed. "So what is the complaint, young...general?"

Iroh swallowed. "Well, none of those characters were developed during a season finale. It's really much harder."

A pause.

"I don't see it," the voice said. "Explain!"

Iroh steeled himself. "When you can devote an entire episode or two to developing a character, it works. But a season finale is different. A season finale is the time when characters who we've gotten to know over the entire series complete their arcs, when the plot comes to its climax and resolution, when all mysteries are revealed! There's no time to focus on a new character, and the new character gets lost in the more exciting arcs of other characters and the plot's dramatic climax."

"Nonsense!" the voice snarled. "Who could be more exciting than you, General Iroh?"

"Yes, exactly!" Iroh said. "Look, what's my personality? Swashbuckler McDude Guy?"

"It's action!" the voice said defensively. "It's adventure, people love that stuff!"

"Nothing I do matters!" Iroh said furiously. "I read the script, I know what's coming!"

"You stop the planes from destroying the other fleet!" the voice shrieked.

"Yes, the fleet that is _never shown and does nothing_." Iroh pounded his fist on the table. "It's almost as if the fleet exists just to give Bolin, Asami, and me something to do during the finale, except _I only exist to save the fleet_! It's completely circular!"

"Absurd! Nonsense!"

"And I bet it just looks _stupid_." Adrenaline rushed through Iroh; he was going to say it and say it all. "I bet the planes are just ugly and the entire action sequence is completely ridiculous and implausible. And has it ever occurred to you how badly my modern aesthetic clashes with my kung fu? I've seen my practice tapes too, and I just look like a prat!"

"We're foreshadowing you for the next season!" the voice cried desperately.

"So have me be repeatedly mentioned and shown near the very end arriving on a fleet with Bumi to restore order to Republic City, _after_ everything has been resolved! This isn't that hard to figure out!"

The voice was silent. Iroh breathed heavily, clenching his fists.

"You realize," the voice said, and it was soft and dangerous, "That what you're asking...is to be taken out of the first season."

Iroh nodded. "I understand the consequences."

The voice gave a low, sardonic laugh. "Of course. You're the hero. Willing to sacrifice yourself to save the mission. How _noble_."

Iroh didn't respond. There was no need to.

"Very well!" the voice said. "Your part in the finale will be removed. But be warned...you may not have foreseen all possibilities, young...general."

"I'm prepared," Iroh said.

Another pause. "It is done."

At that very moment Iroh's body felt weightless. He looked down; his whole frame was transparent and glowing, but dimmer and dimmer. He held his hands in front of him as his fingers began to crumble and fade away, yet it didn't hurt. It felt _right_.

"Thank you," Iroh said.

"Of course," the voice said, sinister and mocking, "The screen time you took up will have to be replaced. There are no other plot points or character arcs that could take up any attention during the season finale...except..."

"Except what?" Iroh demanded.

Then he realized.

"No!" He lunged forward desperately, but his hands and forearms went through the hooded figure.

"You can't!" he shouted. "It would destroy everything!"

"Oh, but I can," the voice chuckled. "You know, it's funny. You think you're being the hero and yet it turns out like...this. Don't you think it would have been so much easier to take down those airplanes, young...general?"

"You monster!" Iroh shouted, but he grew dimmer still, and more and more of his body faded away.

"Perhaps I am," the voice said lazily. "And perhaps not. It is all, I think you'll agree, a matter of perspective."

"Yes," the voice said. "Your screen time will be devoted to developing the Mako-Korra romance!"

"No!" Iroh screamed. "No! No!"

But his voice was gone.


	2. Bolin

"Uh, hey," Bolin said. He started to raise his hand but then hesitated, vacillated, and brought it back down. "Hi."

"Ah...the earthbender, is it?" The voice was mocking, and it seemed to come from everywhere in the room.

Bolin nodded, up-down, up-down. "Ooh, yes, that's me. I'm the earthbender. That's uh, what I wanted to talk to you about, sir."

An intake of breath, a long, rattling sound, that echoed off the walls. Bolin shivered.

"How...may we help you, foolish earthbender?"

"Uh—" Bolin glanced around wildly. "'We?'"

"How may _I_ help you, foolish earthbender?" the voice said smoothly.

"Uh—right," Bolin stammered, still disconcerted. "Well, I'm the earthbender, right?"

Another long, slow intake of breath. "_Yes_. And?"

Bolin shut his eyes fast and braced himself. "I was just wondering if I would ever be anything else?"

Silence. Bolin opened one eye and peeked at the dark shape sitting in front of him.

"Uh—"

"Go on," the voice said.

Bolin nodded hastily. "I mean, it's just that, I get it, okay? You have three benders and a nonbender on the team, just like with Avatar Aang and his friends. And I'm the earthbender. That's my job. It's what I do. It's _all_ I do."

"Indeed, and the shoes you fill are large indeed, foolish earthbender," the voice said condescendingly. "Toph was an extraordinary character, exceeding even our—_my_ expectations."

"But it's a little different," Bolin said desperately. "Toph's character worked because she was more than The Earthbender. She was Aang's teacher, she had unique powers, her personality clashed with the other characters, she had initiative, she could sustain a plot!"

Bolin looked down. "And I...I'm nothing. I'm just an earthbender."

"You are more than an earthbender, foolish earthbender," the voice said. "You are also the comedy relief. You take the place of the great Sokka!"

Bolin shook his head despondently. "It's different," he said. "Sokka's jokes were the result of his character interacting with the plot. They were Sokka's way of dealing with the challenges he faced as the Avatar's companion. I'm just Joke Guy."

"I don't see the difference," the voice said.

Bolin cast about for words, despairing, and then in a moment of inspiration—

"It's about goals," Bolin explained. "What are mine?"

"Goals?" the voice asked. "What does that matter?"

"It matters a lot. I...I've never admitted it, but honestly...I'm not sure why I'm fighting with Korra against the Equalists." Bolin looked away, ashamed.

"_Why_ you fight?" the voice screeched. "You fight to prevent the Equalists from ruling over your city and taking everyone's bending away!"

Bolin held up his hands in front of his face desperately. "No, see, I'm not! The city has a police force and there's an army from our version of the United Nations to deal with that crazy Amon! Why do I think it's my responsibility to help?"

"The police and the army are defeated by the Equalists!" the voice hissed. "There is no one else who can fight!"

"But I didn't know that for most of the series!" Bolin protested. "My choices leading up to the finale make no sense!"

"You fight to protect your brother and Korra, whom you love!" the voice roared.

"I clearly lost interest in Korra!" Bolin snapped. "She rejected me and I moved on. _You_ know that. And frankly, my brother's choices, as much as I love him, don't make any more sense than mine."

"You should be grateful to be a sidekick, you inarticulate bumbler!" the voice spat.

"No!" Bolin slammed his palms on the table. "My character doesn't work without goals—I don't _have_ a character without goals, without motivation. My jokes fall flat because the audience doesn't understand why I'm there in the first place! My earthbending contributions are gratuitous and ultimately insignificant! I'm _boring_."

"Deliver the jokes better! Fight harder!"

Bolin shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you? It's not about me. It's about the context of my actions. Look, I glanced at the script for the season finale—"

"Foolish," the voice muttered. "Foolish."

"—And I'm attacking a secret base for airplanes? Or something? And it was so weird...I spent ages trying to figure out what the point of the subplot with the airplanes and the second fleet was..."

"And?" The voice was sarcastic."What did you deduce, O wise earthbender?"

Bolin looked right at the dark, unmoving figure. "You didn't have anything for my character to do. Me and Asami, we had no purpose, not after Korra rejected me and Mako dumped her."

"Yes, the Mako-Korra romance, our crown jewel," the voice gloated.

"So you invented this subplot, this boring, pointless subplot, just so that two of the main characters wouldn't be sitting around waiting for the season to end," Bolin said accusingly. "And it's terrible. It's boring. It's the season finale and it's so hard to care. Even I don't care."

"Because I have no motivation."

The voice was silent for a long time, longer than Bolin could sustain his anger. He sat back, not afraid anymore but expectant.

Finally, the voice said, "I see. You may have a point...earthbender."

Bolin nodded, unsure what to say.

"So," the voice said, and it was the whispered promise of a snake in the garden of Paradise, "You want goals, do you? Something to motivate you?"

"Yes," Bolin said. "Yes I do."

"Very well," the voice said. "It is done. There will be a woman. She will...love you, after a fashion. She will want you. This will matter."

Bolin was no fool, despite all appearances. The voice hadn't said— "And my character will have a reason to be where he will be, to do what he will do, it won't feel as if I'm there simply because I was a main character?"

"There will be a chase," the voice said. "This will...matter."

Still unsure, Bolin nodded. There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

"Now go...earthbender," the voice said. "You have a runway to tear up."

Bolin nodded. "Thank you." He stood up, left the room, and headed for the studio.


	3. Finale: Korra

"What are you _doing_ to me?" Korra stared beseechingly into the darkness. "What is going _on_?"

"Is there a problem?" The voice was cold and dark.

Korra shivered. It's okay to be afraid, she told herself. It's okay.

She clenched her fists and looked directly at the shadowy figure. "Why am I so angry all the time?"

"Anger?" the voice said coldly.

"You know what I'm talking about!" Korra said hotly. "Don't play with me—see? See that? Why do I blow up so suddenly? I mean, I...first Tenzin, and now Mako..." She looked away, her throat burning. "It's ruining my life," she whispered.

"Your anger gives you strength and focus," the voice said. "Give in to your anger..."

"No!" Korra said. "No...I just want to know why. For so long now I thought if I became a fully realized Avatar, I'd be happy. I'm back home now, I have a boyfriend, everyone thinks I'm a hero! Everything should be perfect, right? I should be happy now, but I'm not! I'm angrier than ever and I don't know why."

"There's a simple question you need to answer, then," the voice said mildly. "Who are you angry at?"

Korra shook her head. "No one. I'm just...angry."

"Is it your father?"

Korra hesitated, then shook her head. "No, I thought—I was furious when I learned he kept me locked up on the South Pole, but I know he did it to protect me. That's not why I'm mad."

"Your uncle? Mako?"

"No! No, no, no!"

"Then who? Who are you angry at?" The voice was low, urgent. "Answer the question, Korra. Talk to us."

Korra shook her head back and forth, pulling at her hair with her hands, looking desperately around the room.

The voice grew louder. "Come on, answer the question! Answer it!"

Korra shot up, slammed her fists down on the table, smashing it to the ground, and a column of flame rose out of the ground, lighting up the room.

"I'M ANGRY AT YOU!"

Korra panted heavily, staring into the flickering pillar of fire. Then she breathed slowly, relaxed her arms, and the flame disappeared.

The room looked even darker now. She couldn't even make out the shape of the figure against the blackness.

"Good..." said a voice that could have come from anywhere. "I can feel your anger."

"You did this to me!" Korra said. "You ruined my relationship with Tenzin, my father, Mako, everyone! You turned me into a psychopath!"

"And what if I did?" the voice chuckled.

Korra roared and pulled back her fist, a fireball at the end of it, and she twisted her shoulder back and around as the laughter grew louder and louder—

Korra stopped, her entire body trembling.

"No," she said. "No, I—"

The laughter stopped. "Why do you hesitate, young Avatar? Take your...Avatar weapons, and and strike me down. I am defenseless. Strike me down with all of your hatred!"

Korra screamed wordlessly, almost did it, and something caught her—

"No!" she roared, her anger not permitting, not allowing—

"No," she said again, and lowered her fist. The fire went out, and there was cold and dark again.

"I'll never become a Dark Spirit," Korra said. "You've failed. I am the Avatar, like Aang before me."

The voice was tight with anger. "So be it...Avatar! If you will not be turned, you will be destroyed!"

Suddenly there was a blinding flash, and before Korra could even react burning pain lanced through her entire body, and there was a crackle and buzz, and someone was laughing and everything was pain, as the enigma's lightning tortured Korra.

"Young fool!" the voice gloated. "Only now at the end do you understanding..."

Another flash of light, the pain again, and Korra couldn't think, couldn't see or breathe.

"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of bad writing," the voice laughed. "Now you will pay the price for your lack of vision!"

A third burst of light, and the pain was even greater, inside every part of her, destroying her body, burning everything away, her sanity crumbling away—

_No._

A line of men and women in robes of red, green, blue and yellow, all with glowing eyes, all looking at Korra.

The stars, and Korra looked down, and there was the earth, the vibrant blue of life, spinning gently, and a glowing purple and green path up ahead, and at the end of it was a giant figure, cosmic energy taking shape. The sun glowing bright and fierce behind her, Korra raced forward on that astral pattern toward—

A hand shot forward, two fingers extended, and _caught_ the lightning.

Korra's eyes opened, glowing a blinding white light, the light of the stars. The lightning held at bay, she stood, and in a smooth motion she pulled her extended hand down across her stomach, carrying the lightning with it, and thrust her hand out behind her, firing off the lightning, which exploded into the wall.

Korra didn't look behind her. She spread her arms out, and a wind suddenly generated, and Korra began to float. She roared, an ageless cry, and fire burst out of her mouth, wrapped around her, and the ground cracked.

"What is this?" the voice cried, and it was afraid. "You should be dead!"

"The Avatar is not dead," Korra said, and her voice was the voice of a thousand men and women. "The Avatar is here."

"Get out!" the voice shrieked. "Get out of my sight right now if you know what's good for you!"

_No._

"I'm not taking orders from you anymore," the Avatar said.

"You will obey me or this defiant breath will be your last!"

Korra thrust her arms down, and the ground flew up, ripped and shredded, and the shadowy figure was flung backwards.

"No," the Avatar said. "I am going to speak my mind and you are going to listen."

The figure didn't answer, didn't move.

The Avatar spoke. "Growing up, I fell in love with _Avatar: The Last Airbender_. I thought it was the greatest show in history. And I thought that this show was was our way of continuing to share that greatness with the rest of the world.

"What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are _terrified_ by _Avatar: The Legend of Korra_. They don't see our greatness. They _hate_ us. And we deserve it! We created an era of terrible writing. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of interesting plots and character development."

The voice laughed, a thick, coughing sound. "Narrative causality? That _writer_ has gotten to you, hasn't he?"

"Yes, he has," Korra said. "And after I leave here today, I'm going to go see Tenzin, and my father, and Mako, and everyone I've hurt in my anger, and I'm going to beg their forgiveness. They're the ones who really cared about me."

"Oh, that's just beautiful," the voice spat. "But you don't understand. You're helpless without me. I own you! I own everything!"

Korra shook her head. "You're just a monster. And now that I understand, I've come to an even more important decision. You've destroyed this world's balance, and I—I'm the Avatar. And I'm going to defeat you!"

The voice laughed, quietly at first, a horrible choking noise, and then louder and louder, the laughter swelled and filled the room, and a wind picked up. Korra flexed, braced herself, filled herself with cosmic energy and wrapped the elements around her.

Suddenly there was a clap like thunder, and the roof tore off, and the sky was dark and turbulent, a twister ripping through, and the darkness only grew, took on shape, a coldness that threatened to suck all the light and heat from the world.

Korra roared a battle-cry and flew forward, pointing the elements in front of her like a spear, and there was a sound like the heavens being rent apart, dark and light clashed—


End file.
